wetlands & waterfowl on US-2 east of Lakota, ND
I got going pretty early; out by 8:41 after breakfast at the
motel.
There were even more wetlands along the road today.
As I headed east from Lakota, I kept seeing more and more references
to my home state:
It didn't feel like I was home, but the sign said I was in Michigan--Michigan, North Dakota. The town was named by the Lamb family who moved there from--quess where? A lot of my TCBA training rides use Lamb road in Okemos, Michigan and I used to represent a Lansing client with that surname. I wonder if there is any connection.
I spent about 45 minutes in Michigan trying to find a postcard
to send my daughter (to add to her postcard collection). I had to settle
for a generic card--there weren't any local ones in stock anywhere. As usual
in North Dakota, all the people were real nice.
The weather forecast called for winds from the west and northwest 5-10 mph.
That was never true all day. I was riding east with headwinds.
For lunch, I cut off the road about a mile at Niagara, ND. I passed a field
of bright yellow Canola.
Well, where do you suppose these people came from? Hint--it is
either in New York or Ontario. They're not real imaginative in town names
around here. It is as though folks wanted to continue to use their old addresses
even though they moved to North Dakota.
Niagara is at the brink of becoming a ghost town. There's almost nothing
left. Most of the buildings are boarded up. They do have a museum of sorts:
the Niagara Historical Complex (a collection of old buildings--not open--but
there to see).
 Niagara School (1916) |
 Log Cabin (1881) |
The complex also has a 1890 shool, a church from 1894, a 1962
caboose, and, an 1882 jail cell.
I ate lunch at the Niagara Cafe. Not seeing a menu, I asked the waitress:
"well, what do you have?". She responded: "we sell hamburgers...p
a u s e..." I said: "well then, I guess I'll have a hamburger."
There was no menu and only one selection.
There are only 80 folks left in Niagara. The cafe owner commented that in
50 years there will probably be nothing left there.
It was a gorgeous day. I continued on my way, a bit hot in the bright sun.
At Larimore there is one of those small-town claims to fame:
"Home of Stephaine Fisher--Miss North Dakota 1992."
I stopped at a monument to the Old Fort Totten Trail, but didn't take notes,
can't remember what I read and can't read the inscription from the photo
(sorry). They used a piece of granite (like a tombstone) for the monument.
I especially liked the Indian carved on the granite.
 monument to Old Fort Totten Trail |
 carved Indian detail |
There is a large military base near Grand Forks. I saw a GI in
fatigues do a good deed. He stopped his car and lugged a large wooden block
off the road. The wooden block (approx: 24" x 14" x 12")
had apparently fallen from a truck onto the road. If somebody had hit it,
there would be serious vehicle damage at a minimum. I was impressed by the
soldier's act.
As I neared Grand Forks, the traffic volume was similar to that near Meridian
Mall in Okemos, Michigan--very heavy. At Grand Forks, I stopped at the visitor
center to inquire about a local bike repair shop.
I was directed to two, and chose one most accessible by bicycle
from US-2: The Ski & Bike Shop. This was a fully-stocked bike store.
They had at least a hundred bikes on display (primarily Treks and Cannondales)
and a large repair facility.
My rear derraileur cable was sticking. They replaced it: $1.19.
They also replaced the defective Trek Radar cyclocomputer: $0.0 (under warranty).
I wanted some gel gloves and another coolmax headband, but they didn't have
either.
From there, I headed across the Red River (about the size of the Red Cedar
River in Williamston--and just as muddy) into East Grand Forks, Minnesota.
I spotted an interesting place to eat, but the nearest place I could find
to stay was about a mile further east on US-2, so I took a cab back to the
Blue Moose. The Blue Moose was indeed a good place to eat. I'm a sucker
for outdoor eating--and it is right on the riverbank. They had good food
and an excellent selection of micro-brews too.
 Blue Moose (the neon is blue) |
 Blue Moose, East Grand Forks, MN |
After I finished eating, some folks at a nearby table asked where I was
coming from and going to. When I explained, they asked me to join them at
their table. It turns out that he has an aunt in Fowlerville, Michigan and
was back there recently; that they visited Williamston and bought some antiques
as they had on previous trips. When they were done eating, they drove me
back to my motel. I was tired enough that I forgot their names (even though
at the time I thought I'd remember--oops, sorry).
Endnote re North Dakota
North Dakota drivers were just fantastic. They gave me more room on the
road than anywhere else I've ever ridden. If I was on the shoulder of the
4-lane highway, they passed only in the left lane; never in the right lane.
It became apparent to me that the only folks crowding me by driving in the
right lane were drivers with license plates from other states. The worst
offenders had Michigan plates; my own people were the most bent on blasting
me off the road.
North Dakotans also waved at me in a friendly way. Not once was I "flipped
off" in North Dakota like I was (frequently) in Montana. Out of appreciation,
I waived at the drivers who passed wide of me (and still do in Minnesota).
After driving across Montana and complaining about surly drivers, it was
wonderfully refreshing to have experienced North Dakota. I don't know what
it will take to get the rest of North America to behave like North Dakotans,
but we sure need to make an effort.
Editorial re Bike Paths
In Grand Forks and East Grand Forks they have some bike paths. What a waste
of money. I never use such paths. I prefer to ride on the roadway--it is
a whole lot safer. Pedestrians and bicycles don't belong together. Bicycles
are going closer to the speed of a motor vehicle than a pedestrian. As I
rode along the roads in Grand Forks, I saw examples of my concern: a woman
walking a dog on a leash; children; rollerbladers. Signs in Grand Forks
tell the bicyclists to yield to the pedestrians. There are stop signs on
the bike paths at every intersection or driveway. I would never get anywhere
if I stopped at every crossroad. Bicyclists would be far better served if
governments would spend their money for good shoulders on all US and state
highways instead of bike paths and rail-trails.
71 miles.
 North Dakota  Minnesota |
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© Ed Noonan 1996, 1997